My Experience with a Madman
by annie knox
Summary: Dr Kearns has returned without warning to Dr Pellinore Warthrop's house...but what is it he wants, and what lengths is he willing to go to to achieve it? Told from Will Henry's POV.
1. Chapter 1

I opened the large wooden door with my hand, feeling the familiar twinge of pain in my wrist as I twisted it to do so. For a moment my heart beat quicker in fear, I did not recognise the figure on the doorstep, as he was shrouded in black, and I saw in my mind's eye a flashback of all the newspaper print tales of the 'Ripper' who stalked our streets, but then the figure discarded into my aching arms his cloak, and with an even faster beating heart I recognised his face. Alas, it is a face I would rather not remember.

"Dr Kearns." Even I heard the disdain in my own voice, and prayed he had not.

John Kearns, as he liked to go by, although to my knowledge that was one of just many different labels he used for himself, was not a man you would want to get on the bad side of.

He appeared to be in a jovial mood however, bestowing his flashiest smile upon me and pushing past to enter the house.

"Master Will Henry how very excellent it is that I once again find myself in your companionable company. I have missed you a lot my boy. I often think back to your hand in our last adventure together. Pray, may I ask, how is that wound?"

He was referring to the cuts on my arm, a large bite wound, which he had, 'on our last adventure together' used to trick me into being bait for him.

"It is fine thank you Doctor. Dr Warthrop is busy sir. Could you come back later?"

He gave me another jovial grin, which were already grating on my exhausted nerves, and disagreed. "No he is not Master Henry, and no I cannot. Do not try to lie to me Will Henry."

I shook my head, afraid, and offered him a cup of tea.

"Why yes my dear boy that would go down very well. Very well indeed. I trust you remember my beverage preferences?"

How could I not.

As I prepared the tea, boiling the kettle, I heard the infuriating man let himself into Warthrop's study. I leant against the counter and rested my head into my hands, ignoring the twinge it brought. I zoned out for a moment, focusing on my throbbing temple. I felt like the blood was trying its best to pound straight out of my veins. My muscles ached, and my eyelids were so heavy every blink was hard to recover from. It had been a very long and tiring night. I suddenly came back into myself, realizing I could hear loud shouting and that the kettle had stopped boiling a few minutes ago.

A loud, resolute crash echoed throughout the house and I abandoned my task of making the tea, racing through the house to where the crash had come from, to the Doctor's study. Inside both he and Kearns were facing each other, breathing heavily. I looked to the floor, where an entire bookcase lay face down, several books spilling from a pile underneath it. Someone had pushed in over in a rage. The men caught sight of my standing in the doorway, and I saw something change in Kearns's face. Some sort of light seemed to dawn in his hideous grey eyes, and he slowly smiled, the fierce true face of his being hidden once again under that mask of cheer. I still did not like that smile, though. I could see the maniac hidden beneath it.

"Very well" he murmured now. "Very well Pellinore, but do not blame me for the incidents that will occur after this moment. They will all be able to be traced back to you, and your selfishness."

He then moved, gliding gracefully along and past me. He stopped at my side, and looked down on me with an even bigger smile.

"Master Henry, I suppose you and I will be seeing each other in the future."

He then turned away again and strode away, down the hall.

"I will not be needing that tea after all Master Henry! Oh, and Pellinore, I propose you call in some aid with lifting that bookcase. Rather heavy, that one!"

And with that, the door slammed shut.


	2. Chapter 2

I watched with wary eyes, unsure as to how the Doctor would react to the way Kearns had disrupted his precious library. He very simply stood there, for a long stretch of time that may only have been seconds but felt like arduous hours for my young self; never had I had to stand so long as bear the scrutiny of the man whom I had been forced to rely on.

I reluctantly chose to attempt at communication, uncertain as to what exactly had passed before I had entered but knowing that unless someone intervened against the Doctor's time-consuming thought process then he could well perhaps stand there and continue to scrutinize the spot just slightly above my head for the rest of the night.

"Sir…. Is there anything you would like me to do?"

He literally appeared to snap out of it, jerking violently and bringing his eyes down sharply to stare back at me. I could not tell what he was going to say or do but from the look on his face I knew deep inside of me it would not be enjoyable. The candlelight flickering threw strange shadows across his face, illuminating his prominent brow and the somewhat alarming manner in which his eyes protruded from their sockets as he glared at me. I was small, for my age, and his height was both terrifying and intimidating from where I stood, waiting for him to make a movement, any movement.

He suddenly moved, doing so in such an abrupt way that I flinched back. _Calm, _I told myself, _he has never struck you before, even when the fault has been yours. He will not do so now._

I was wrong. As I stood (and I like to say it was firm but undeniably my traitorous foot did make to step back) and he marched towards me, formidable in all his wrath, I was aware of his hand being drawn back behind him. I was aware of it rushing back towards me, but blinked in bewilderment, not believing it to be true even as it unfolded in front of me.

His fist hit my cheekbone, and I was sent spiralling uncontrollably into the bookcase behind, sending yet more books cascading to the ground. I simply lay in shock for a moment, slumping down over the sharp corners of the diaries, accounts, newspaper clippings, journals and even the odd literary record. I looked up; feeling profoundly dazed, and found myself looking up into his eyes. They were undefinable in that moment, as the fog cleared. He stared down with a glimmer of emotion I struggled to define in those timeless orbs; the only part of the man which I suspected had not and would never age with him. Another emotion flitted across his face, before vanished and he silently stepped past and walked away. I stay where I was, listening to his footsteps fading on the wooden floors and straining my ears until I was certain he was gone. Then I gasped, allowed the built up emotion escape from my lips in a sigh, like allowing a tightly wound spring to bounce back. I slowly struggled to my feet, pushing against the books, slipping a little as they did and resulting in my ungainly scrambling to regain my footing.

Once clear of the pile-up, I stood alone for a minute, allowing my brain to replay what had just happened in an attempt to understand as I rubbed against my sore cheek.

I suddenly, with sparkling clarity, understood something: I was imitating my master. Standing in the same style he had, staring at nothing and pondering over something instead of taking action to solve said issue.

No. I refused to become like him. Not like him, my tormentor, my phobia, my only stability in the life I had led since my parents' death.

Without losing another moment I stepped over the books and ran.


	3. Chapter 3

I was unaware of where I went; the only thing registering in my shocked and dazed mind was the throbbing pain in my temple. I slipped a little on the expensive but outrageously dirty wooden floor, coated with dust and water than had leaked through the rotting wood of the front door. I felt my feet shift but managed to grab onto the rusted door handle and pull myself to my feet. I leant hard against the door and applied all my strength in moving it to the side, before it finally creaked open. I dashed out into the world, ignoring the fact that I barely ever escaped the confines of that dark dank hovel to taste the outside air (and along with that the fact that whenever I did I seemed to end up coming very close to losing my life). It was extremely cold but I was not about to ruin my bid for freedom by re-entering that prison for a mere extra layer of cloth.

I ran down the driveway, feeling the rain splatter on my face, and it felt delicious, as if it were cleaning away everything that had happened, cleaning awawy all the grime and dirt of the past few years. I xclosed my eyes and stood at the end of the drive for a moment and relished the feeling as the rain drops hit my eyelids, cool against my warm skin, and I felt more awake and alive suddenly than I had in a long time. I felt like all the images of death I had seen recently, Malachi and his family, were being rinsed from my face and my mind.

And then a rough hand clasped my forearm. I gasped a little; the scars from the anthropophagi attack were still a little troublesome at times, and opened my eyes, expecting to see a crumpled and apologetic Doctor Warthrop. Or at least I was hoping.

As happened a lot around those times, my hopes were dashed. Instead I found myself locking eyes with the steel grey of Kearns.

He drew back his lips to reveal a long line of shining, white teeth in what I supposed was supposed to be a comforting smile. It reminded me rather of a shark preparing to eat a small shrimp.

"Whatever are you doing out here in the cold, Master Henry? " His voice dripped honey but beneath it I sensed a trace of poison.

Before I could summon up the wits to think of an answer, I found myself being turned and pushed towards his carriage.

"Come on in, out of the cold."

I pushed back and shook my head. "I'm sorry; I need to get to somewhere…."

"Oh yes? Well look at all this horrid rain. We wouldn't want you to catch a cold now would we? I will escort you there in my carriage."

I started to shake my head again but found that before I could stop it I had been pushed firmly into the carriage and onto one of the seats.

"So where exactly were you headed, dear boy?" Kearns lips were still pulled back in that hideous fashion. The attempted smile could never quite reach his eyes, which remained dead and emotionless as he watched me.

I had not yet considered where I would be running to, and yet before I could do so the words were from my mouth: "fifth and fifty-First Street*."

His smile grew wider, if that was even possible, and an amused, knowing glint appeared in his eyes, which shone in the lamplight. For no reason whatsoever I found myself feeling suddenly defensive. It took me a moment to realise where exactly I had labelled, and at my moment of realization Kearns enlightened me: "Young Lillian's street is it not?"

I nodded.

"Perfect." Somehow these words sounded a lot like a threat. He then turned and instructed the driver "Onwards, to the delightful fifth and fifty-first street, where dear Lillian awaits young Master Henry!"

I watched quietly as he sank back into his seat, shark's grin in place. He lent forwards in his seat, leaning on his wooden cane, as if to confide some great secret to me. I felt my apprehension growing, until he spoke a mere inch from my face. His breath was cool against my skin, and the words slithered from his mouth.

"Now why would you be going to see dear Lillian, Master Henry?"

He spoke slowly, but wrapped his tongue around each syllable. I shrank further back and attempted a nonchalant shrug. I had been under the impression that his smile could not possibly get any bigger than it already had, but it did.

I really did not care for the knowing glint in his eye. He settled back with a grin and then reached into his bag. I watched his long, slender and somewhat sinister fingers reaching into his bag. Before I knew what was happened he suddenly leapt across the space between us at me and clamped a napkin covered in a foul smelling substance over my mouth.


	4. Chapter 4

When I reopened my eyes I was able to look but could no, no matter how much effort I put in, bring myself to operate y limbs, all I managed was a few unhelpful hand spasms.

I became aware that I was lying on my side, pressed onto wet, dewy grass-it was either late at night or early in the morning. The moisture was soaking into my face in a most irritating fashion, making my helpless and uncontrollable body shiver and tremble with the cold. There was a chill in the air. The wind that blew over my damp body and clothes was biting, and I wished I could move away. My vision was blurry as I first awoke, but became clear as I lay there. Even blinking as an effort of epic proportions, struggling to lower my eyelids. They felt heavy, as if each had a world weighing down on it.

As my eyesight cleared I recognised exactly where I was; lying on the cool grassy stretch across the road from Lily's four storey house. The door was open, and I could see the carriage in which I last remembered being parked on the road. In the light coming from the doorway I could see two figures; but not who they were. I could hear voices and that was enough to tell me what was happening.

"…..A _terrible _accident! Please Miss, help me! He is unconscious!"

"My uncle is out, I'm sorry but I am not supposed to answer the door, I thought you were a friend I knew…"

"Please! Will is dying!"

"…..Will?"

"Yes, Will Henry! My nephew!"

"I know Will Henry, he has no relatives. Only his master."

"And I am Pellinore's brother; _please_ Miss I cannot let him die!"

The desperation in his voice made me want to purge myself. I did not know for what reason he was trying to urge Lily out of her house, but I knew that the minute she allowed herself to be taken from her home she would be unsafe. I willed my mouth to open, to call to her, to stop her leaving, to warn her, but instead I saw her figure acknowledge the man, nay, _monster's_ plea for help and she started down the stairs. Horror rose in my chest as he then proceeded to lay on the thanks, the gratefulness he felt for her "kindness, so kind, thank you my dear girl, I can't bear to lose him…"

"Yes, yes I understand." She snapped, the suspicion had not left her voice yet. Oh Lily, why did you believe the man?

"Just show me where he is."

I continued to watch, still unable to move, as the figures approached me from across the road. I finally was able to see their faces, lily's frowning and slightly nervous, and Kearns' gleeful. He caught my lazy eye from over Lily's shoulder and gave me a slow, taunting smile. I tried desperately to move then, pulling at all my muscles, mentally screaming at myself to just get up and move, but couldn't.

Suddenly I felt one of my feet move. It shifted, ever so slightly, towards me. Lily's eyes had been searched worriedly along the ground, but she caught the movement and her face dropped into pure fright.

"Will!" she cried, fear resounding in her tone, and she dropped the suspicion and ran across the grass towards me. She skidded to a stop on her knees beside my body, bending over me, her long skirts instantly muddied, but she didn't seem to care. He long raven hair was shining in the moonlight, loose and down in long waves reaching down, sprawled over her shoulders and swinging down to her elbows. I realized she must have been preparing to go to bed, and the white gown was in fact her nightie.

She stared over me with scared eyes, pulling on my face with her hands and carefully, more gently than I would have thought such a brash person capable of, she tugged back my eyelids and stared into my eyes. I rolled my eyeballs, trying to give any sort of sign about the deception, about what danger she was in, about the madman leaning over her as I watched, but couldn't get the message across.

Suddenly she stiffened, still cradling my head, and bent closer, so her nose was inches from mine, and sniffed cautiously. Then she pulled a little closer, pulling my head up so she could cradle in out of the wet grass, and turned accusing eyes on Kearns'.

"I can smell chloroform on him. Why on earth has he been drugged? You said there was an accident with the horses."

Finally, she was catching on! I attempted once again to make contact with her, show her in some way that she was right, he was lying and she needed to run back to her home, but all I was able to procure this time was a small groan. Immediately Lily's attention was distracted from Kearns' as she spun back to look at me, long hair flying, and she bent low.

"Say something Will!" I heard the quiet plead in her voice. Then I spotted what Kearns' was doing behind her back. He lifted an object I could not identify high in the air. I widened my eyes, and Lily must have somehow caught the gesture this time, and she turned back and saw the thing coming straight towards her head. She ducked and threw herself to the side, flinging me away from her; I rolled a little and then stopped, marvelling at her strength. The object, which I now saw to be a large glass ball, like a crystal one used at séances, hit the ground and smashed into large, dangerous chunks of glass.

He was insane.

Lily scrambled back to her feet, slipping in the mud, and tried to make a run for the house, but her muddy gown stuck to her legs and twisted, slowing her, and Kearns' grabbed her around the waist and tackled her to the ground. She continued to fight, throwing punches from where she lay, and caught him hard on the cheekbone. He paid no attention to the blow and reached for a chunk of glass. She began to scream, and I managed to create a small sound of protest, but even as her cry for help began it was cut off with a dull thud which struck dread and fear deep into my heart, leaving just my protesting moans in the air.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: so this is probably one of the shortest chappies i have written. ever. I just have major writers block and needed to write something or else I know I wont bother today...**

**hope you like it!**

I watched, wriggling a little but not nearly enough to do a thing, as Kearns' picked Lilly up and carried her over to the carriage. He flung her in and I worried over the way that she did nothing, just flopping down inside like a rag doll.

Then he returned, strolling leisurely across the grass for me. I tried to move, to roll or cry for help, but again all that left my throat was a lot of strange moaning noises. I wriggled a little, inching away, but Kearns noticed my pathetic attempts and threw his head back, his grey eyes glinting as he laughed uproariously. I narrowed my eyes but was helpless and I too was plucked from the ground and flung over his shoulder. I bounced against his back and he walked, and dropped unceremoniously to the carriage floor. The driver was watching with wide, scared eyes. Kearns shut the door and went around to the front, leaving me in darkness. I strained my ears to hear what was happening, and heard the driver speak up:

"I didn't agree to no bloody kidnap! What kinda shady joint are yous running?

…Wait stop!"

There was a loud, ominous thump and a grunt and the driver's voice fell silent. The carriage started moving and I assumed that Kearns had done something to the driver and started driving and from the bump that we went over in the road, which had not been there upon our arrival, I knew I was right. As we assed under a lamp, I caught sight of Lilly and realised to my alarm that she was completely unconscious and bleeding. Her head, from what I could see, had a large cut on it.

Under y gaze she shifted a little, as if feeling my eyes upon her. I rolled over and nudged up against her and gently as I could in the lurching carriage, ignoring the fact that I ended up rolling into a small patch of her blood. She seemed to feel my presence and huddled a little closer. She was freezing, her skin cold to touch. I struggled and the effects of whatever drug had been used on me were beginning to wear off, so I managed to move my arm and gently touch her shoulder.

She jumped a bit, but then her eyes opened.


End file.
